


Calling

by Jaelijn



Series: Profound Bond Ficlets [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaelijn/pseuds/Jaelijn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode Tag for 10x14. The First Blade awakens some unpleasant thoughts for Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Since this is an episode tag, of sorts, there are massive spoilers for S10 as a whole and 10x14 The Executioner's Song in particular. Previously posted on tumblr. Enjoy! :)

When Dean handed the Blade to him, Castiel hesitated, just for a moment, before gingerly taking it from Dean’s hand. He could hear the exhaustion, the relief in Dean’s exhale, and moved to his side without having made a conscious decision to do so. Dean’s side was where he belonged, now, after all.

But the Blade felt foreign in his hand. It wasn’t smooth and cold as his own weapon, not the pure conduit of Heavenly wrath an angel blade was. The First Blade was warm, pulsating, evil. It sat uneasy against his palm, not… _belonging_ , and part of Castiel was grateful for that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of a presence, dark, dangerous, and alluring all the same. He had to fight down the instinct to let the Blade drop from his hand, to get away from it as far and fast as he could.

It wasn’t a new sensation, not really. Castiel had felt similar things around demons, around Lucifer, around Cain. Around Dean, too, since he had taken on the Mark. It was repulsive, and in Dean’s case, painful, but Castiel had looked past it before, and he would continue to do so for as long as it took. The Blade, however, was different. So close to Dean, so close to the Mark, Castiel could feel it vibrating, as if it found his grasp just as abhorrent as Castiel found the sensation of holding it. As if it were fighting to get back into the hand it belonged in. He couldn’t drop it now, of course. Dean trusted him, to keep it safe and away – from Crowley, but especially from Dean himself.

Dean trusted him…

On their way back to the car, Castiel pulled off his tie and wrapped it around the Blade, before hiding it in the folds of his coat. It was out of sight, now, but that only dampened the sensation, and Castiel couldn’t stop wondering. Sam had climbed into the driver’s seat, Dean slumped down in shotgun, and he was watching him from the backseat. Dean hadn’t said a word since Crowley had vanished. Castiel was glad that he was still with them – it could have gone so much worse, and he clearly wouldn’t have been enough to stop Dean any more than he could stop Cain. Not this time, anyway, not with the Blade in his hand. Dean might not be a demon anymore, but the Mark was something else entirely, and his grace was not weapon enough. The Blade, however, was.

Castiel could feel its dark influence, its power, seductive and abominable, and he was sure Dean could, too. What had he been thinking when he passed the Blade to Castiel? That he, as an angel, free of the Mark, would be immune to its influences? That Castiel would be able to hide it in places Dean or any other human could never reach?

They had spoken very little, lately. Cas knew that he had been… distracted. Hannah, and Claire, and his own fading grace, which wasn’t something he allowed himself to dwell on for too long. Then, the search for Cain, anything to make the promise he had unthinkingly given Dean void, unnecessary.

_If I do go dark side, you gotta take me out._

Castiel was never sure what Dean was thinking. He had gotten to know him pretty well, but whenever Dean spoke to Cas, he was always _fine_. Castiel knew he wasn’t, of course, but even after everything, Dean was still _Dean_. Castiel had turned to Sam for a more accurate assessment of his brother’s condition, but Dean hadn’t handed the Blade to his brother. When the time came, the decision would be, had to be, his.

“Sam. Stop here.”

Sam pulled to the curb, glancing back at Cas quizzically, then understanding. “You’ll find us at the bunker?”

“Of course.” Cas threw a glance at Dean – tired, weary eyes meeting his – and climbed out of the car. “I’ll be back soon.”

Sam nodded, and Castiel closed the door, watching them drive off. He knew where to put the Blade, now, but he wished he entrust it to someone else. To put it where Dean wouldn’t find it, but also where Castiel couldn’t. He didn’t want to be anywhere near what might be the only thing that would work, if… the only thing that could kill Dean. The thought that he might have to be made him sick. And what if he hesitated too long?


End file.
